Wieder erreicht mich die Nachricht, dass der Vater einer Jugendlichen gestorben ist, wieder sind wir konfrontiert mit dem Tod. Wie verhalten wir uns? Ich finde Trost in den Worten von Adrian Plass (aus: „Alien at St. Wilfreds“):
What do we do about death?
We don’t –
The monster is hidden away.
Its not in the zoo for the public to view
The look on its face would empty the place
We don’t want to die, the people would cry
Death is the curse in the back hearse
We don’t need to see it today.What do we do about death?
We don’t –
We shovel it under the ground
Under the sod and hope there’s a God
Whose principles bend at the bitterest end
Or we burn it away, and whispering say
Death is the scream at the end of the dream
There isn’t a lonlier soundWhat do we do about death?
We don’t –
We don’t even give it an name
He’s gone before to a distant shore
She’s passed away, we gloonily say,
He’s fallen asleep in a terminal heap.
Death is the spear that is poisend with fear
It pierces the heart of the game.What do we do about death?
We don’t –
But once in the angry sun
A winner was slain at the center of pain
When a battle was fought at the final ressort
But because of the cross it was fought without loss
And death is knive that will free us for live
Because of Jesus has done.
Für Sarah.